


AnCom Plays the Ukulele at 3am

by Fluffiestclouds



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: AnCom please fix your sleep schedule, Gen, Neopronouns, Ukulele
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 21:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffiestclouds/pseuds/Fluffiestclouds
Summary: AnCom chills in quis room late at night
Kudos: 17





	AnCom Plays the Ukulele at 3am

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like months ago enjoy

You know something that AnCom hasn't done in a while? Play quis ukulele.

AnCom had been surfing the web at an extremely late hour of the night, checking Twitter, YouTube, and other social media sites, and had then come across a video of someone playing a song on their guitar. Que didn't have a six-stringed instrument, but a four-stringed one was surely just as good.

AnCom knew that que had a ukulele somewhere—que had shoplifted it from Walmart years ago, and it probably hadn’t been used ever since. Que looked around quis room, quis eyes scanning every inch of it. Que got up from quis chair and started quietly poking around. Que had checked by the door, under quis bed, and by quis nightstand when que found it between quis wardrobe and the wall. It was a deep brown, and had a small “This machine kills fascists” sticker on it, which que had forgotten about. Que strummed it with the tips of quis fingers and an unpleasant sound signified clearly that it was untuned.

Que thought for a minute. Que didn’t have a tuner, but que was pretty sure that there were those tuner apps you could get on your phone that que could use. Que went back over to the desk and unlocked quis phone, and entered 'Uklele tuner' into the search bar of the app store. Despite the missing vowel in quis search, a few results popped up. Que pressed on the top one and deemed it good enough, pressing the install button. Que stared at the wall as the app downloaded, and then opened it.

Que put the phone as close as que could to the ukulele, and then played the top string. G, C, E, A. Que had turned the knobs the wrong way a few times, but que now had a (hopefully) tuned ukulele. However, the next problem arose: que had quis nails freshly painted and que didn't want to ruin them.

Que suddenly thought of what, in this late-night moment, que considered one of quis best ideas. Que knew of those little plastic things people would use to play stringed instruments, which meant que didn't have to use quis fingers. Que didn't have one of those, but que did have cardboard. Que snatched an old cereal box that was lying about and some scissors, and began cutting the cardboard. Que wasn't sure what the plastic things were meant to look like, but quis hands cut out a sort of elongated raindrop shape, and que stuck with that.

Finally, que picked up the ukulele and the cardboard tab and started playing quietly. Que knew the other extremists would be sleeping, and que didn't want to wake them (well, que wouldn't mind disturbing Nazi's sleep, actually). Que hadn't played a lot even when que first got the ukulele, so que randomly moved quis fingers along the frets while strumming absentmindedly. After a bit the sounds were less ragged, and que let quis drooping eyelids close. Que played without any sense of rhythm, letting quis hands decide what to do as que listened.

Que felt very tranquil at that moment. Que felt like a Sim practising something, except que was forever stuck on level two of the skill. Que occasionally had to play more gently to quieten the sound. Slowly, que stopped playing and opened quis eyelids again. Que threw the tab on the desk (which fell off) and put the ukulele back, and even managed to change into quis pyjamas before flopping down onto quis bed, letting quemself go to sleep for the night.


End file.
